Heart of Gold - A Witcher Story
by Elf of Mischief
Summary: Weary of the world, yet reluctant to leave as others have before him, Geralt of Rivia roams as he once did, hunting monsters. When a black hearted queen seizes power, overthrowing the balance of peace within the kingdom of Verden, the Witcher is sent on a quest; hunt down the one with a heart of gold, and take back the crown. A Witcher twist on Snow White and the Huntsman.
1. Prelude

_**~ A Note from your Writer ~**_

Welcome to something different for me, Heart of Gold, a Witcher Story.

My fingers were simply itching to weave some words in this incredible fantasy world, after watching the overnight sensation which is Netflix's The Witcher.

Before we get started, I first want to note I claim no ownership of the original books, Netflix adaption, or video game adaptions.

This work is not cannon, taking elements from all of the above, including some of my own. Witcher Wiki has been my second home the past two days!

Heart of Gold is based after the events of the books, tv series, and I believe the games, with a Snow White and the Huntsmen vibe twist.

Enjoy at your free will.

A xx

* * *

**Prelude**

_Here we begin in the year of 1326._

_Nilfgaard has been defeated in the second war, and a peace treaty between Cintra's neighboring Kingdoms has been in place fifty-eight years, creating a sense of safety. _

_The small kingdom of Verden has been rebuilt; a harmonious home to both human and elf kind, ruled by a gold hearted king._

_However, the King's daughter, Crown Princess Fallon, holds a black heart; withered by her mother's death and the disregard of a father who cannot love her._

_When a sear's warning goes unheeded,_

_the sun will be snuffed from the land,_

_and a kingdom will fall into darkness,_

_To await the heart of gold's hand,_

_and the white wolf's catharsis._


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

* * *

**_~ Eliana ~_**

Pale sunlight sliced through the darkness, the mould dusted blanket cover ripped so swiftly away, I flinched from its whip-like crack. My spine collided with the ice-chilled iron caging me.

After the dank and dark, the world was bright, too bright. My eyes stung. I blinked once, twice, the cacophony of rowdy noise materialising into a milling crowd of men and woman. Mostly men.

Mud, sour sweat and rotting mead filled my nostrils, rankling them. I couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe—

"Time to come out and display that pretty little face." My bald captor displayed his rotting teeth in a broken grin. My stomach roiled.

I'd spent two full moon cycles caged by this man, unable to escape. I had tried, desperately tried, but to him I was a priceless find.

Fair, young, unblemished. Untouched.

Chains rattled, a lock twisted, grinding loud in my ears. It was not a release to freedom, but a to eternal enslavement. Death. I wish I'd died with the others now.

"Come on, out with yeh." The rough fibres of the heavy rope collar bit into my neck, the feeling now too familiar, but I couldn't move. My mind dizzied, and it was only by the man's ruthless hauling, I scrambled, on hands and knees from the iron crate.

Air vanished momentarily as he hauled me to my feet, the rope collar tight against my windpipe. I couldn't get me knees to steady. I hadn't stood properly in weeks, and they wobbled precariously like a newborn foal. My wasted muscles strained to hold my starved frame, but I needn't have bothered. The man kept a tight grip on my collar, all too aware how I'd tried to escape him before.

"Alright, here we have a half-elf likely, come of age, untouched. What a fine figure she'd cut in the sheets!" A shudder raked through me as the crowd crowed and jeered. "Who'll start the bidding toda—"

"Fifteen gold!"

"Twenty!"

"Twenty-five!"

My ears buzzed, the action blurring to the pounding of my own heart. Soon, soon it would be over. Soon someone would claim ownership of me, like an animal, like an object.

"Six-hundred." A voice, hard and cold, caused the crowd to still.

"Six-hundred?" Anyone 'ere to best this 'ere gentleman?" A sob tore from my throat as the auction man called sold.

**_~ Geralt ~_**

"Move!" I roared, causing townsfolk to scatter in Roach's wake. We careened at a gallop around a street corner, and the city square came into view. Folk bunched close to the wooden platform, where two men, one bald and the other possessing slick, raven hair, and a cruel glint to his eye, fought with a mere slip of a girl. Her tangled, dirty hair still glint gold under the cold sunlight, the torn, stained shift she wore barely detracting from her beauty. Elf blood.

The substantial coin at my side weighed heavy. She'd already been auctioned. I was too late. Fuck.

Veering to the right of the crowd, I leapt from the saddle, pushing through the auction goers who laughed at the terrified girl's futile fight for escape.

A whip flashed between her shoulders, and she cried out, the sound morphing to a snarl, she writhed, spitting up at her buyer's face. The whip cracked again, and again, and my own heart pounded harder with each slash, knowing exactly how they cut, how they burned as if a fire licked her flesh. The eager crowd milled closer, hindering me with their jostling bodies. If I didn't get her soon…

I was close enough now to scent the coppery tang of her blood, see the way her body trembled like a leaf, surely only held up by her still bottom lip, held between her teeth.

Time was dwindling, I'd left a hot trail in my haste to reach the auctions. I needed to act now, damn the hundred-odd Kaedwen witnesses.

Shoving the last of the men between me and the platform aside, I swung up onto the boards, drawing a blade, slicing clean through the whip as it ascended again towards the girl.

The crowd stilled, the raven-haired buyer swung around, dragging the girl by the rope about her neck. I didn't hesitate, driving my sword through his chest.

"The girl is now mine." I wrenched my sword from the body, letting it drop. The girl scrambled back from him, back from me, sea-blue eyes wide with horror. It was definitely her.

Beyond the square, the ground trembled. Hoofbeats. Fuck.

**_~ Eliana ~_**

Fire licked at my back, fogging my mind from the searing pain, but I fought it, edging away from the snow-haired monster of a man with fury glowing behind coal black eyes. He whistled, drawing a second sword.

"Get on the horse." Voice low, gravely, commanding, he shouldered me towards a chestnut who appeared behind us. I stumbled down from the platform, towards the horse, hope of escape blossoming behind my quaking ribs.

If I could just get on, stay on. I was a good enough rider...

The snow haired man roared, and I whirled to the clash of steel, the shouts of other men. Arms wrapped about my middle, and a scream ripped from my lips, from fear and pain. The ground tilted, the sky darkening.

Cold earth met my hands, a horse whinnied, silver flashes of shod hooves dancing around me. Silver flashes of the snow haired man's blades, as he fought what seemed to me, a never-ending army dressed in black and gold.

I'd seen this army before, bathed in the fires of a burning city-town, leaving streams of scarlet in their wake. The army of my people. The army of Verden.

**_~ Geralt ~_**

The girl was barely conscious, a small tattered body guarded by Roach's teeth and hooves, should anyone get past my blades. The townspeople had scattered at the arrival of the soldiers. Three remained, a fourth having galloped off to no doubt alert the larger part of their party likely still travelling from the previous town. We needed to get far away from here.

With a bellow, two men rushed me. Blocking one, I slammed my other blade into the second one's neck. A third man's blade burned across my thigh. Spinning away from the pain, I arced a blade, driving it true. The third man grunted, falling to his knees. The last man, mouth bloody; ran.

Turning to Roach, I stilled the mare, kneeling at the girl's side. Blood stained the dirt she lay unconscious upon, the thin shift she wore clung crimson to her back. If only time would permit, I could treat her. A small mercy falling unconscious; she would feel no pain, and hopefully by the time she awoke, we'd be far away from her pursuers. Sheathing my weapons, I gathered her up, and climbed into the saddle. Pointing Roach towards snow capped mountains, I urged the mare into a gallop, the girl tucked securely against my chest.

* * *

_So, this was a random fic idea two days in the making._

_I really need to draw a line with this madness. I'll try keep this one short and sweet, but you know, don't hold your breath!_

_Toss a coin to your Witcher; thoughts and questions welcome._

_xx A_


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

_**~ Eliana ~**_

A chill, pine-infused breeze brushed my cheeks, mingling with the damp scent of horse, of something else human—but not so.

Hoofs rolled against soft soil at a canter by the three beat thuds. An arm braced about my middle, holding me against a warm body so closely, we moved as one to the rhythm of the horse's lope.

"You are awake." Words reverberated through my spine, awakening my last memories. It was the snow haired man. The man who had killed the vile man, who had won me at action, in order to possess me for himself. He'd escaped the soldiers and taken me. I remembered his eyes; pure black fury.

I began writhing in his grip, fear of what he did in the town, of what he could do to me drowning out every other rational thought.

"Hey careful, you'll hurt yourself." He wasn't wrong, my injured back seared, the slicing pain blinding, but I fought on until he let out a growl of frustration, and let me go, slowing the horse to a halt. I tumbled from the saddle, biting down on the inside of my cheek from the pain.

He slid from the horse. I scrambled to my unsteady feet. He put his arms out, a peace gesture. I backed away, feet tripping over sticks and pine needles, heart slamming against my starved ribs, waves of dizziness threatening to drag me under once again.

"Stay away from me!" My voice came out husky from the rope, from my earlier screams.

"I will not hurt you, I'm here to help you."

I snorted, stepping back further into a group of young pines. "You think me a fool? The last man who promised help, threw me into a cage." I knew I had no hope of escaping him, nevertheless, I ignored the bite of flayed skin at my back, and darted about for a stick, seizing a hefty pine branch.

"Put that down, Eliana, you'll hurt yourself." He muttered, distracted as he searched the pockets of his charcoal trousers, pulling out a folded parchment. My heart stuttered out, my grip slackening on the futile, makeshift weapon. How did he know my name?

For the first time I met his gaze. His eyes weren't black anymore. Perhaps I had imagined such a monster? Instead they were a golden ochre… I stared at him, my entire body going weak as he closed the gap between us, holding the parchment before him like a white flag. I gripped the branch tighter, a warning he noted. Once I had taken the note between my shaky fingers, he took three respectful steps back.

I recognised Petra's scrawled healers writing.

_Little Firefly, you can trust Geralt._

I looked away from the letter, catching the hopeful purse of his straight mouth, and narrowed my eyes to pick up on any tells. "How do I know you are this, Geralt?" His right brow raised a fraction. I hauled on my branch, brandishing it in his direction. "You could have stolen this note."

"Keep reading, Eliana." His tongue rolled my name, impatient, causing my heart to stammer in my chest once again. I went back to the note, realising nowhere stated my true name.

_Because I know you are the smart girl you are, and will question the poor soul's existence, know this; his eyes may be gold, but one of those blades strapped to his back is wrought of pure silver._

The eyes were enough to convince me. All at once, I couldn't keep my knees locked beneath me, such was the wave of relief which knocked me to the carpet of pine-needles.

The world tilted for the second time today, the ebbing pain carving flames down my spine, where the drying blood tugged at my shift. A sob worked its way unbidden from my chest. It hurt, but I was safe, Petra had sent help. This man, whoever he was, I could perhaps trust.

**~Geralt~**

"It's alright." I moved the short distance to where she'd fallen to her knees. She shook her head, as if trying to clear it, blue-green eyes an ocean of suffering.

Kneeling, I chanced tilting her chin, catching her gaze with my own. Despite the short letter, she was scared, and rightly so. Apart from the obvious, I could only imagine the trials she had been through over the past three months since the peaceful Kingdom of Verden had been taken over by King Wiscar's daughter and deceiver, Fallon. The Verdens, who had not fallen under her reign of power, had fled; taken in by the elves of Brokilon forest.

The newly crowned Queen Fallon had claimed the mage and elf forged staff, Luminore, wielding it and her own powers to control the Verden army, and put a target on the head of the terrified girl staring back at me now. The only soul in the entire Continent, who could put a stop to Fallon's reign of despair.

Standing, I fetched a waterskin from a pack. "Here, drink." I thrust the waterskin into her hands and leaned back, giving her space again. Her eyes darted to mine, as she sniffed at the mouth of the skin before taking a tentative sip. She made to return it, but I shook my head. "Take as much as you need. We'll be able to replenish at a stream soon. Are you able to ride a little further?" Between sips, she nodded. Ciri flashed in my mind. This girl had the same fire, the same regal demeanour which only blood could create.

"Good. I know a place we'll be safe for the night." A frown crossed her features while I checked over Roach. I'd ridden the mare hard and off any road, ensuring we put distance behind our pursuers. "Not far now." I rubbed her damp neck, taking a short moment for myself before turning back to Eliana. Shakily, she rose to her feet. She kept shaking.

Fuck. She would be freezing in that rag she was wearing. Tugging at leather straps, I pulled my cloak from behind the saddle, shaking it out.

"Here." I draped it about her shoulders but didn't tie it. The rope collar, I hadn't removed it in my haste to get out of the town. Stretching down, I pulled a knife from my boot. She gasped, jolting away from me.

"Sorry, I only mean to cut the rope." Her lip trembled, but she held still, allowing me to sever the rough fibres. Air whistled between her teeth as I eased away the remnants from raw welts against her neck and throat.

"Thank you." She whispered, and I looked from the angry bruising and cuts to those blue-green eyes. Shadows had cast the light from their depths, the light of the elves, but it flickered, a spark of hope.

"When we stop for the night, I'll treat your injuries." Rather than have her walk to Roach, I called the mare to her side, and helped her into the saddle, swinging up behind her. We'd lingered here too long. The woods were deepening, the sun casting long shadows to the West.

As before, I pulled her flush against my chest, forcing a small cry of pain from her lips. "Sorry, but this will be better in the long run." I murmured, nudging Roach into a lope. We needed to be deeper within the pine-laden foothills of Gory Ogniste before nightfall, with a fire going, before the wolves went on the prowl, or worse, the army caught us.

**_Toss a coin to your Witcher; thoughts and questions welcome._**


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

* * *

**_~ Eliana ~_**

The remaining ride had been excruciating on my back and fraying to what remained of my nerves. Geralt, as the letter from Petra had named him, had kept a tight hold on my midsection, so the entirety of my back was flush against his chest and torso. It was to restrict bumps against one another as his horse cantered the wild, twisted terrain. My mind had skittered around and around, doubting his intentions, questioning Petra's letter.

When he reined the mare in, declaring we'd reached camp, his rough voice like the throaty rumble of a Brokolin forest wolf, an exhausted sigh of relief gushed from my lips. Sliding from the horse, before he could make a move to touch me, my knees buckled, eyesight darkening, head buzzing. I'd forgotten the material of my shift had dried against my injuries. Hands were at my biceps in an instant, keeping me from falling further. No matter his intentions, I still flinched at the contact, despite the barrier of the heavy cloak he'd given me earlier.

"Come, sit over here, I'll start a fire." Transferring all his support to my right arm, he steered me beneath a pine, where its needles lay thickest upon the earth. Bone-weary, I sank to my knees, dragging the cloak more securely about myself, and flopped to my side, closing my eyes to the constant pull of pain each time my ribs expanded and contracted. If he came for me now, I had no strength left to fight him.

**_~Geralt~_**

If it were not for the shallow breathing causing my cloak wrapped about her to shift, or wisps of fog vanishing into the air upon each exhale, I would have feared her dead.

Making quick work of a fire and setting a small pot over the flames to heat water from the nearby stream, I prepared everything to treat Eliana's injuries. I'd smelt far worse things in my time, but she was desperately in need of a bath. So was I, but that could wait.

The stream was my best chance of removing the grime from her and loosening that bloodied shift from her injuries. Getting her to agree would prove the bigger challenge. The girl didn't trust me, and the water was freezing. Petra, the woman who had raised her, was a healer. As I walked the hidden camp area to stir the sleeping girl, I hoped she had enough healer sense to understand what I asked of her.

Despite her exhaustion, she startled awake at my gentle touch of her shoulder, scrambling around hisses of pain to sit up. I sat back on my haunches, giving her breathing room. "I need to treat your injuries; we don't want infection setting in. First, we need to get that shift off, and you need to bathe." The firelight reflected the fear widening her eyes. "There is a stream, if I give you a knife, soap, and one of my clean under-shirts, do you think you can cut the shift off and bathe by yourself?"

"Yes." Her reply came without thought, driven by pure fear.

"The water is like ice."

"I'll go." She began trying to stand, stumbling on the soft bed of pine-needles. A hand shot out, grasping my arm for support, before her fingers tore away, realising what she'd done.

"Follow me." I walked slow, so she could keep up. If she'd have let me, I would have carried her, and carried out the tasks myself, but I was a Witcher. I knew injuries would heal and scar, but those inflicted upon the mind remained there as memories forever. Sometimes the cost of freedom was pain. I let her have her freedom.

**_~ Eliana ~_**

Once I was certain he'd abided to his promise, and was not within sight of me, I stepped into the shallow stream. Cold! I gasped, my bare feet numb to the rough sand bottom, as the icy water bit at my legs. At least, I countered, it would numb the pain of my back and soothe the inflammation.

When Geralt had advised I needed to bathe before treating my injuries, I had agreed without question, despite knowing it would prove difficult on my own. I was filthy from the conditions the slave trader had kept me in, and the only chances I'd had to bathe, were the rare times I was left out in the rain in a cage.

Gasping again as I sank to my bellybutton in the shallows, I cupped my hands, splashing water over myself, drenching the rest of the bloodied shift. Within moments my teeth were chattering, cold shivers wracking my body, but I persisted, using the knife Geralt had leant me to cut away the soiled shift.

The way his golden gaze had held mine when he'd pressed the hilt into my hand, I was sure it had been his way of saying he knew I feared him, he knew I'd feel a little easier for a blade at my side. He'd said nothing, only to call out if I needed help, or when I was done bathing.

Crimson and brown swirled in the waters, washing away grime and blood, but it wasn't enough. I didn't feel clean. Facing the chill and possibility of chipping a tooth a little longer, I used the sand of the stream, rubbing it hard against my arms, my legs and my front. I relished the abrasive texture, imagining it removed the fingerprints I sometimes thought I could still feel pressing against my skin. I used the soap last, washing away the sand, the remaining blood, hissing as it seeped into my injuries, unwanted touches, and finally my hair and the undergarment I still miraculously owned.

When I left the stream, I could only crawl, too exhausted, and shaking too hard to stand. Fumbling, I pulled the sage green undershirt Geralt had lent me over my head, the material soft and comforting against my skin from wear. Chancing to stand, using a nearby tree trunk for support, I felt better knowing the undershirt fell to brush against the tops of my knees. Wringing out my underwear, and with awkward tugs, I re-covered my modesty. They were hardly pleasant, being wet, but they would dry, and I was clean.

**_~ Geralt ~_**

The silly girl had lingered too long in the stream. Her lithe frame shook as if taken by a violent fit when I returned at her call. She was clean at least, smelling of the sweet mountain water, cinnamon and honey from the bar of soap, and something else which was entirely her, but I could not yet decipher.

Retrieving my cloak, I threw it over her shaking frame, and picked her up before she could utter a protest. She did anyway.

"Put me down, you monster!" A growl rumbled up from my chest, where her words had cut it like a blade. She wasn't afraid of me because of past trials, she was afraid because I was a Witcher. A monster in her eyes. With a foul taste in my mouth, I carried her back to the fire, and deposited her on the sleep-roll I'd set out.

"The lights fading, and I need it to work. Wrap the cloak around your hips and lie on your stomach."

"I'll sit, if it is all the same to you." Had the mountain waters frozen her heart, and sharpened her tongue? When I'd taken this contract, I didn't expect to be retrieving a Witcher-hater.

"Fine." I waited, crossing my arms over my chest as she shrugged off the cloak, wrapping it about her waist and thighs. She stilled, and I took it as my cue to approach, kneeling behind her. I grasped the edge of the shift, noting she was still shaking, and began to pull it up— "Wait!" My hands froze. "Please, just tell me everything you will do before you do it." Had I been wrong? It wasn't hate lacing her words, but an anxious fear. I blew out an ill-contented sigh, my breath shifting the strands of her drying hair. It was a knotted mess, another thing to be dealt with after.

"Of course." I conceded. "I'm going to remove the shirt over your head. If it makes you more comfortable, you can hold it to your chest."

"Okay." Her strained consent told me she was on the verge of breaking. In all my years, I'd never had close dealings with a girl, no, a young woman, in this kind of abused situation. It had been a while since I'd felt out of my depth.

**~ Eliana ~**

He was careful, the way he eased the shirt up. Lifting it over my head, he sucked in a breath at whatever he saw of my exposed back. I knew some areas still bled by the smattering of fresh blood on the clean shirt I grasped from him, pulling it tight against my chest.

"I'm going to wash down your back with a warm tincture. It will sting." I nodded, and after a moment, he spoke again. "I'll start at your right shoulder and work down." Warmth infused my skin, the tincture running rivulets down my back, and then the warmth erupted into an inferno.

I jerked forward, biting back a cry, but a hiss still escaped between my teeth. My fingers crushed the shirt at my chest, and when he wrung out, re-dipped and applied the cloth to my left shoulder-blade, I cried out, tears stinging. This was nothing like the wound cleansing tinctures used in Verden, they stung yes, but this was a hundred times worse. This was as if I was being lashed by that whip all over again.

"Nearly done." His low voice barely registered through my own memories. The last word I heard him utter was, "fuck," before my vision blackened.

* * *

**_Toss a coin to your Witcher, questions and comments welcome._**

**_From last chapter:_**

_XxXLIFEafterDEATHXxX - Thankyou! Yes, I hope to keep them coming regularly between this, my lotr fic, and working on my original wips. _

_blasttyrant - Ah hahaha, that song is permanently on replay in my brain! I've decided to torture the world with it, have set it for my morning alarm! At least I'll wake up grinning! I have a horrible feeling short will become long. I suck at writing short stories! I've tried, it hurts my brain! :D _


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

* * *

**_~ Geralt ~_**

Fuck, I should have known the tincture would be too strong for her. Eliana had passed out, crumpling forward over herself. A finger at her throat ensured she still had a pulse, and so I continued cleansing her wounds.

Five open cuts inflicted by that man's whip. Two would need sutures. Did she possess other injuries apart from the welts at her throat? I wouldn't search her, not without her awake, consenting. But I needed her lying flat.

Gripping her shoulders, I eased her onto her stomach, re-arranging the cloak which had slipped, revealing worn underwear. That she still had them incited hope the dog or dogs who'd caught her hadn't laid a hand on her.

I bore scars, made no prettier by hasty sutures on the road. I took a care with hers, eyes still keen in the twilight, guided by the flicker of flames over her skin. By some good luck, she began to stir after I'd finished, while I was fetching a jar of balm.

"Stay there, I've sutured your back." She made to scramble up, gasping in pain. "Don't move, you have no shirt." I warned, and she stilled, canting her head to watch me. Hatred filled her fiery-blue eyes, along with the fear. I liked her better unconscious.

"What happened, what did you do to me?" She demanded, but the shake in her voice betrayed her. Did she not realise if I'd wanted to harm her, I would have by now, and easily?

"Some sutures. You passed out from the tincture. I warned you it would sting."

"Not that much." I nearly smirked at her grumbling reply.

"I'll apply a balm now, to seal the wounds. If you wish to sit up again, I'll turn around."

"Please." I spun on my heel, counting to ten, surprised by her manners. When I turned back, she was sitting, cloak covering her hips and front from view.

"I'll start at your right shoulder again." I settled behind her, dipping a fingertip into the tacky balm. She trembled at my touch but didn't flinch away as I covered the length of one cut, and then the next.

**_~ Eliana ~_**

The balm didn't hurt, it soothed. Strangely, so did his methodological movements. I was unused to feeling this weak and helpless. I hated it. Usually I was the one helping others, healing others.

Fingers threaded through my tangle of hair, sweeping it aside. "I'll treat where the rope burned your skin."

"Okay." I whispered through a tremor of fear. Fingers and thumbs had encircled my throat before choking off air, rendering me unconscious. I tried to hold still, but at the first brush of his fingers, I jolted sideways. He paused, making a low rumbling sound, then continued his ministrations. I could feel the rough pads of his fingers, but his touch was gentle, without ill intent. _For now_, a voice in my mind whispered.

"If you'll allow me to bandage your back, then we'll eat." Food. The very thought of it caused my hollow stomach to clench. I nodded, grabbing the shirt to cover my breasts, letting the cloak pool at my hips.

He made swift work of winding three lengths of clean cloth across my left shoulder, covering my chest with my help, to cover the worst of the lashes across my back.

"All done, you can put the shirt back on." Body bound, my movements were stiff, and by the time I'd tugged the shirt down to my knees, and wrapped the cloak around my shoulders, Geralt had packed away his healing kit, and a steaming bowl of some kind of broth awaited me, complete with a small hunk of bread and cheese. My mouth watered. This was more food than I'd eaten in one sitting in weeks.

"It's not much, but—"

"No, it is. Thank you." I lifted my head, meeting his gaze.

"Take it slow, if your stomach has shrunk, it will be unused to big meals. You'd know that though." He added, serving the same meal up for himself. So, he knew I had skills as a healer. I nodded, hunkering down on the simple delights before me.

My back hurt less for the balm and strapping, my stomach eased of its cramping for the warm food, but exhaustion once again crept up on me. Geralt had remained silent, putting things away in his packs, pulling other items out, and checking his horse.

Presently he knelt before me, those strange, golden eyes assessing against the firelight.

"How are you feeling? No longer cold?" I shook my head. The heat of the fire had infused right through to my bones. "Before you rest, I need you to tell me if you have any other injuries?"

"Only bruises, and light cuts and scrapes." He rumbled something unintelligible under his breath, confliction creasing his brow.

"And what of other violations? Did anyone lay a hand on you?" I stared at him, his question paralysing. Last time someone had asked me such a question, and I had answered truthfully, they'd checked to confirm. Was he going to? A disgruntled sigh whooshed through his pursed lips. "What I mean is, do you still have your, uh virtue?"

"No." I hurried out. The lie was an easy one to tell if it would make me less desirable. The slave traders had rejoiced in my innocence, stating men would pay triple to take it for themselves.

I knew I'd made the right choice when Geralt stood, turning his back, swearing under his breath.

"Was it the slave traders?" Did it matter? It did, I realised. He whirled back, golden eyes swirling in anger. It wasn't directed at me.

"N... no. Before, a boy, from home." His broad shoulders relaxed.

"Good." He seemed pleased by my answer, and I wondered if I'd needed to lie to him at all? "One more thing, I want you to drink this. It will ward off infection." He produced a small vial of a dull, orange liquid.

"What is it?" I had no desire to drink something I did not know the ingredients of.

"Something an old friend taught me to brew. An infusion of lemon, garlic bulb, ginger root, oregano leaf, and a few other herbs."

"Sounds delicious." He rumbled in amusement perhaps. Geralt uncorked the vial, and I took it, trusting him as I had trusted him treating my back. I downed the liquid in one go, nearly coughing the acidic mixture back up. He took the empty vial, pressing a waterskin into my hand. "You forgot to mention cider." I croaked out, after washing the disgusting potion down, to which the corner of his mouth quirked up.

"Rest now." The tension in the air between us had vanished. Nodding, I eased onto my right side.

I had so many questions to ask him, including where we were, and why Petra had sent him. And what of Verden? Mostly, I wanted to know why a man perhaps several years, or a decade my senior, had hair like moonlight on snow and golden eyes which glowed wild like a forest wolf's? But I couldn't get my tongue to form the words. Had he drugged me? I made to sit up, to demand if he had, but my body was heavy, my eyelids heavier, closing of their own accord.

**_~ Geralt ~_**

With the girl tended to and now asleep, I braved the icy stream; stripping myself of a weeks' worth of dirt and grime, and the blood of today; A mixture of hers and the men I had killed to save her.

Food had warmed her a little towards me, but I dreaded the many days we'd spend on the road back to Verden. It didn't matter who'd seen me on roads in my search for her. Now I had her, I needed to keep her out of reach of Queen Fallon's men. There was a bounty on her head, a desirable reward to the man who brought the queen the girl's eyes. A horrific request, but a way to identify her, for they mirrored the King's. Did the usurper Queen not know of the Royal Mark of Verden? Did Eliana? I'd glimpsed it, shifting her hair to treat her neck, a small glint of gold hidden away behind her left ear.

Using a blade, I shaved away a weeks' worth of facial growth, then strode from the water. How the girl had tolerated the temperature so long was beyond me. Far off, a wolf howled, met by an answering call further away still. We'd be safe here for the night. I dried off, pulling my one other pair of clean trousers on. My undershirt I'd washed in the stream and would hang by the fire. Eliana had my spare. I should have had the sense to procure a dress or something in my travels for her.

A terrified cry shattered the night. Snatching up my silver blade, I raced towards the campfire on the other side of the overgrown stream.

She thrashed, tangled in my cloak, gasping and choking, crying out. "Shh, it's alright, it's alright." I pressed a hand to her shoulder, trying to wake her, or still her, I wasn't sure. Those ocean eyes snapped open, widening in horror. "It was only a dream." I ignored her disgust in me, continuing to calm her. If she kept up the crying out like an injured creature, we'd have the wolves at as within the hour.

"Don't hurt me."

I let out a sigh. "I'm not going to hurt you, but you need to be quiet. There are wolves out there." She blinked up at me, seeming to regain her surroundings.

"I'm, I'm sorry." She whispered. I gave her a single nod, pressed a hand swiftly to her forehead to check she had not gained a fever, to which she flinched, and retreated to the stream for my boots and washed shirt.

When I returned, she had fallen back to sleep. She had my one sleep-roll, and so I made do with a blanket and the pine-needles, lying on my back a few feet from her, letting the crackle and snap of firewood lull me into a half-slumber. The potion I had given Eliana would ensure a restless night as it worked through her blood and tormented her dreams, but it was the only way to ensure an infection would not take hold, and to speed up her healing.

The fire had burnt to embers when she stirred again, calling out for her mother, for the woman, Petra, for help.

"Shh, rest now, it's all right." I spoke low, voice thick with sleep, reaching across the distance to rest a hand on her shoulder once more. She was shaking. Rolling to my side to get closer, I placed my hand on her forehead. No fever, no sweat beading her skin, but she was cool to touch. The night had grown colder. The potion I'd given her was playing with her dreams, and I could only imagine the terrors.

"No, no, no, no…"

"Shh—"

"No, no!" She shot upright, shouting. Fuck, she'd call down the entire wolf pack at this rate to finish us off.

"Eliana, listen to me, it's only a dream." Her unfocused eyes blinked in my direction, her body shaking, swaying.

"You, your eyes are gold." She mumbled.

"Yeah." Make me stand out as different, just like yours. Except I'm hated for mine, by people like you. I didn't say the rest aloud.

"Where am I?" She swayed violently, swiveling her head about.

"You're in the woods, where it's safe." I touched her shoulder, instead finding my fingers tangled in her hair. Despite still trembling beneath my touch, she stilled.

"Your eyes were black, now they are gold." She mumbled more to herself.

"Yeah." I admitted. No wonder she had called me a monster, she'd seen what I could be.

"They are nicer gold." She was slumping, sleep pulling her under once more. I eased her back down onto her side, sliding my fingers through her hair, loosening snagged tresses. She let out a sigh, bordering on contentment, and so I repeated the action, running my fingers through her soft hair, gently working the tangles loose, over and over, long after she had fallen into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

_**Toss a coin to your Witcher, if you enjoyed this chapter. **_

_**Questions and comments welcome. **_

**_blasttyrant - Ah hahaha, that is gold! I've been singing Lullaby of Woe all week as well. I freaking love that song! Glad you enjoyed the update. :)_**

**_XxXLIFEafterDeathXxX - Thanks! It is, especially when people gang up on him, alienating him. Eliana's a smart girl, she's just scared and hurting, and has reason not to trust him._**


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

* * *

**_~ Eliana ~_**

I awoke stiff and sore, nothing unusual, except the dewy, earthen scent of woodlands, of pine trees whispering in the cold breeze above. Not the damp mould of my cage, and the decrepit stable. Opening my eyes, I stared across at a sleeping man, snow white hair falling in soft lengths over his forehead, pale lashes dusting the strong ridge of his cheekbone, where dawn's light touched on a faded scar.

Geralt, the man who had saved me. The reason I was here, fed, healing, safe. Yesterday, he had seemed terrifying to me, but only because I didn't know his intentions. In this light, he didn't seem like a bad man. He appeared younger, innocent. He'd shaved, I realised, noting the clean, smooth planes of his strong-set jaw. He must have washed after I'd fallen asleep. I caught a gentle whiff of the same soap he'd lent me, and an underlying earthier scent, which wasn't dirt or grime, but something else, something wild.

He lay facing me, his arm stretched out between us. My eyes wandered curiously over the expanse of his bicep. At its breadth, it would easily be as wide, if not wider than my thigh. I had healed many of Verden's knights, and soldiers, but it was rare to come across a man possessing such honed strength. His skin was pale, and I wondered where he hailed from, for I did not think he was from Verden.

I traced the scars with my eyes; some thin, some rigged, old interwoven with new, all the way down to where his fingers entwined with a tress of my hair. A small gasp escaped my lips, and his eyes fluttered open.

Snatching my hair from his hand, I leapt up, shoving the cloak aside, nearly tripping in my haste as my injuries pulled taught, burning.

"What did you do!" I demanded, eyes landing on one of his blades, still sheathed against a pine log. I lunged for it as he leapt up, swearing. Fastening my hands about the hilt, I yanked the heavy blade towards me, dragging it about, hefting it to point the tip at him, and bulked. He'd grabbed his silver blade, and held it with ease at his side, muscles rippling. Bare muscles rippling.

**_~ Geralt ~_**

I definitely preferred her asleep. The sight of me shirtless seemed to give her pause, and I used it to my advantage, taking a step towards her. "Eliana." I warned. The damned girl would rip open her back trying to wield my sword.

"What did you do to me!" She was sparking with rage, a shock contrast to her terrified cries during the night, and later, peaceful mumblings as I'd carded my fingers through her hair. What had I signed up for? Transporting a little she-devil?

"I have done nothing to you." I countered, taking another step forward. "Put the sword down before you tear your sutures."

"You're lying." She lunged forward, raising the blade, swinging. I crossed it with my own, blocking her attack, a sharp ring splitting the air. "You drugged me!"

"I gave you a healing potion."

"Which put me to sleep." She growled.

"You did that all on your own." I growled back. Her eyes sparked, an emerald fire igniting within their depths.

"You were touching me. My hair." Quick as a viper, she disengaged, whirling the blade at my thigh, the weight of the weapon pressing on her malnourished state. I caught her attack again, this time ramming my blade against hers, not too hard, but enough to temper that griffin-like rage.

"It was the only way to get you to shut up crying, so we didn't get eaten by wolves, or worse, wargs." I casually dropped the second threat of these lands, and her eyes widened. "You'll find there are far worse monsters than me in these woods." I grabbed my steel blade, wrenching it from her grasp, and stalked back to the fire. Snatching up my dried shirt, I tugged it over my head.

When I turned back to her, she was still in the same place, looking smaller, weaker than she had only moments before. Sighing, unsure what to do with her, I rummaged through a pack, finding and breaking a hunk of stale bread in half.

Supplies were low. I'd forgone hunting game for tracking her and carried only meagre supplies. I'd need to hunt if we were to eat a proper meal today. Tomorrow, I hoped to stop at a town in the hills, provided the Verden army didn't await us there.

"Here." I thrust half the bread at her. "If you need to relieve yourself, do it now, we'll be leaving shortly."

"Where are we?" I paused on my way to fetch Roach, turning back to her.

"You don't know?" She shook her head, looking miserable.

"We are in the foothills of Gory Sine. It was the quickest escape from the army yesterday." She stared at me, disbelieving.

"We are in Kaedwen?"

"You did not know?" She shook her head, lips slightly parted.

"How, how did you find me?"

I shrugged. "I'm a hunter, it's what I do, track, hunt."

"But… I could have been anywhere…"

"Yes, but with a bounty on your head, it made sense you were far from Verden. I followed the right roads, asked the right people."

"A bounty?" She whispered, aghast. Fuck, I saw it in her eyes, the conclusion she'd drawn to now.

"Before you attack me again, no, I am not a bounty hunter. Well, not that kind." I held a hand up, a peace gesture.

"Why else would you travel so far to find me?" I re-approached her, and she held her ground, chin raised, until we were mere feet apart. Every single time I thought her to be one thing, she would surprise me by being another. Her fears I would harm her were gone. She might think me a monster, but she was not afraid of me.

"Do you know why you had to flee the city?" She stared into my eyes, unwavering. "Do you know who your birth father was?"

**~ Eliana ~**

The day leading up to the King of Verden's death, Petra had called upon me to aid her in treating him. He'd taken ill a week prior for no real clear reason, body wrecked with fatigue leaving him bedbound. In his stead, the Princess Fallon had taken over his duties, while he instructed from his bedside, where Petra and two other palace healers tried to puzzle out what was wrong with him.

The day she'd asked me to accompany her, I'd been nervous. I'd sometimes seen the King at a distance, riding or walking through the city, or giving speeches from a balcony to his people, but never up close.

I'd followed Petra into his chambers, fitted with gold and charcoal trimmings, the air heavy with herbs and potions, and curtsied at his bedside.

"Ah, Eliana, you have grown as beautiful as your mother." He had smiled then. "I am glad to see you, child."

"My Lord." Petra had questioned, a strange warning tone to her voice.

"You, you knew my mother?" I'd whispered, stunned. He'd smiled again, as if recalling a long-lost memory. His blue-green eyes going out of focus for a short moment. Those eyes, I'd seen them before, looking back at me from my own reflection…

I blinked, realising Geralt still held my gaze, and swallowed hard. "I, I think my father was King Wiscar of Verden."

"Yes, he was." Geralt sighed. "Do you know anything else?" I shook my head.

"Just that he didn't make it through the night, Princess Fallon took the throne in his stead, and the next thing I knew, there was an uprising, and Petra told me to run from the city, it wasn't safe for those of elven blood." He nodded, making to turn away. "Wait." I grasped his forearm, and he froze, staring down at the contact, surprised, I think. "Will you tell me what happened?"

"Yes, but while we ride, we've stayed here too long."

It didn't take long to pack up and ride out. I helped where I could. I think that surprised him too. Guilt churned the bread I'd eaten about my stomach, as I self-consciously ran my fingers through my hair. Geralt had untangled it, so it fell in clean, wavy tresses down my back. I'd accused him without so many words of being no different to those monsters who had captured me, and the man who had bought me at auction. This morning, I'd been the one acting like a monster. An ungrateful monster. I didn't know how to apologise to him, and so I hoped my helping spoke the words for me.

We rode in silence the first couple miles, my back too stiff and sore now I was astride his horse, to comprehend speech, and he busy listening, watching the land.

Roach, the mare, was picking her way through a deep ravine when Geralt broke the silence. "How long have you known Wiscar was your father?"

"I only guessed when Petra brought me with her to the castle to treat him, the day before he succumbed to the illness." Geralt grunted in reply.

"He didn't die of illness, he was murdered." I turned my head, ignoring the sharp twist of my spine, to look up at him. He stared ahead. "Fallon murdered him. His servants and Petra discovered him the following morning. He'd been suffocated."

"Why would she do that?" I gasped, horrified by such a notion. The King had always been kind and fair to the people of Verden.

"The same reason most royals find themselves murdered. Power. It is my understanding she craved the power and notability of the crown."

"But if Fallon has her power, why am I wanted?"

"Fallon learned of your identity, and now all Verden knows your name. The Queen has placed a bounty on your head for one thousand crowns. Those not of elf blood are under her control, including more than half of the Verden army and its knights. They caught wind of my knowledge of your whereabouts and chased me to Rakverelin, where I found you."

"And the other half?" I hedged, struggling to comprehend everything he was telling me.

"Those who remained loyal to King Wiscar have taken refuge with the elves of Brokolin, and I believe Nastrog is still safe, or was when I left Verden. They are rallying, awaiting your return."

"But what can I possibly do?" I countered. "I'm just a healer girl, illegitimate if I truly am the King's daughter."

"Queen Fallon has taken control of and wields the elven wrought, Lireal staff of Verden. Combined with the mage blood passed from the King's mother, she is unstoppable, to all but you."

"I am no mage..."

"Perhaps not at this moment, but the King's blood runs through your veins. Only those of royal blood can wield the Lireal staff."

We fell into silence. I didn't know what to say, yet a hundred questions crowded my mind, a tangle of words, the foremost I could barely comprehend; why me?

We stopped atop a sheer cliff, overlooking the woodland and hills we had so far travelled. A spring bubbled up from the rocks, and while Geralt assessed the land below, I imagined for anyone tracking us, I knelt beside Roach, who was drinking her fill, and topped up the two waterskins. When I glanced Geralt's way, I found him already watching me; those golden eyes warm, almost brown beneath the bright, midday sun.

"How is your back?"

"Still there." I would have shrugged if it did not hurt, but the pain had lessened. He strode towards me, reaching a hand out in question. I nodded, allowing him to place it between my shoulder blades. With each passing hour seated before him in the saddle, I'd become more comfortable with his proximity.

"No heat, a good sign." He murmured, stepping around me to rummage through a pack. He produced a small wrapped square of cheese, and a dried leaf I didn't recognise. "Here, you need to eat, not sure when I'll find something to hunt, and we need to keep moving. Chew on the leaf first, it will help with the pain."

"What is it?"

"Dragons Tongue."

"I've never heard of it." I eyed the narrow, red coloured leaf. "How do you know so much about healing?"

"Are you going to take the leaf or not?" He rumbled. Narrowing my eyes, I took it, sniffed at it, picking up on a fresh, mint like scent, before placing it on my tongue and chewing. It tasted like mint too, but with a fire behind it, warming my throat and stomach as I swallowed the crushed mass.

I nibbled at the cheese, savouring the sharp flavour while Geralt drained one of the water skins, sculling down the spring water, and refilled it.

"You didn't answer my question." I said once we were both back in the saddle.

"It doesn't require an answer." Was his gruff reply. I scowled, although he could not see it.

"Do you know why I'm the King's daughter, I mean, I understand how, but why? He had a wife…" It seemed he was content enough to talk about me, answering after a moment.

"The King's marriage was arranged, a means to ensure an element of peace with Nilfgaard. He did not love Queen Nisse, he loved another, an elf. Despite a seeress's warning, Wiscar did not cease in seeing her in secret. He got her with child. For the first four years of the child's life, the King would visit his illegitimate family in secret at the cottage she lived in with their daughter and older cousin; a half-elf, palace healer, on the outskirts of the city. In the child's fourth year, Queen Nisse learnt of her King's deceit, and secretly ordered the elf woman's death." Geralt kept talking, but I could no longer hear what he said, my mind rushing like I'd stepped into the ocean's waves.

Blood, I remembered blood. I remembered green eyes, no longer filled with laughing light, unseeing. I remembered the silence. I remembered anguished cries, and arms encircling, lifting, the scent of clean, soft material and horse.

"Eliana?" A tentative thumb brushed against my own fingers, tangled in Roach's mane, knuckles white.

"Go on." I uttered, head light, bile in my throat.

"To ensure your safety, the King entrusted your care to your mother's cousin, so you would continue to be raised to understand both your cultures."

"Petra." I whispered.

"Mmm." He replied. "Until a conversation was overheard between the King and Petra the day before his murder, only four others knew of your existence; The King, Petra, the King's second, and the High Priestess and Seeress, Yavanni." I nodded, but still, everything he had told me did not add up.

"If only four supposedly knew of my true identity, three now my king father is dead, then how is it to be believed I have any royal blood? Where is the proof?" He rumbled, the sound bursting out as a low chuckle, surprising me.

"Your eyes are a dead giveaway. Fallon, despite her powers, did not inherit Wiscar's blue-green eyes, but you did. I am told by Petra you resemble your mother, but I knew the old Queen Kendra, and there are strong similarities there too including those eyes of yours. You also bear the royal mark."

"The what?"

"A mark of Verden royal blood. It is small and not of common knowledge, but you bear it."

"Where? What is it? How could I not see it?" I decided he was mocking me now, but before I could call him out, low words brushed near my ear, strange, warming.

"Behind your ear, a small golden heart tucked away in your hair line."

"Oh."

"The mark was placed in secret after your birth, by Yavanni. A means to prove your right to the throne, and proof you are a Princess of Verden."

* * *

_**Toss a coin to your Witcher if you enjoyed this chapter. **_

_**Questions and comments welcome. **_

_**Silver Ashe - He is, but I think he's a bit guilty for causing them, his healing potion packs a punch! And thank you, glad you're enjoying it.**_

_**Tobiramamara - Thank you! **_

_**blasttyrant - Yes! But one min he's like, I'm a misunderstood outcast, the next he's like, you better not call me a man, I'm a freaking Witcher! **_

_**XxXLIFEafterDEATHXxX - They'll get along eventually. :) **_


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

* * *

**_~ Geralt ~_**

The path ahead lay clear of limestone outcrops, a straight run down into the next valley, and so I let Roach have her head. Securing Eliana tight against my chest, I leaned us both back a fraction in the saddle as the mare's hoofs thundered beneath us, gathering speed.

Now I had explained her birthright and why she was hunted, Eliana had lapsed into silence. I didn't pry; it was a lot to take in, and she was still healing. Her strength, despite her surprising show with my blade that morning, was low.

A full day had passed, and no one had found us. While I was glad we'd escaped, it seemed too easy. Something did not bode well, but I didn't know what. Easing Roach back to a trot, we entered the grassy valley, and movement caused me to bring the mare to a solid halt.

"What's wrong" Eliana spoke low, wary.

"I've found dinner." I grinned. In the long grasses, rabbits hopped about, some sitting upright, ears flickering back and forth in our direction. With slow movements, I eased the small crossbow from my back, and slid a bolt in place, nudging Roach in a half circle to ensure a clear shot.

Before me, Eliana sat as still as if she were made of stone, yet I could sense her coiled muscles. Her instincts were strong. She was hungry, and right now it was as if a predator lurked beneath her sun-gold skin.

I sighted up a plump looking creature, busying itself on thistle leaves. Exhaling, I released the trigger. The rabbit screamed once and then was still whilst the others fled to their burrows in a flurry of grey and russet brown. I nudged Roach towards the fallen creature. Swinging down, I removed the bolt from its neck, wiping the excess blood on the grass before replacing it with the others at my back. The rabbit I checked for disease, before picking it up by its limp back legs to fasten with a strap of leather off the back of the saddle. All the while, I felt her eyes on me. We were getting along, it seemed, but I still sensed her unease. At least she hadn't called me a monster again, but I'd seen how she studied my hair, my eyes. Did she think them beastly? Is that why she stared?

"Hope you like rabbit." Refusing to glance at her, I swung back up behind her in the saddle.

"I considered rat while I was…" She trailed off, but she didn't need to finish. That she'd shared something of her time captured was a surprise.

"They taste awful." I made to wrap my arm about her to settle her back securely against me before we rode again, but she pushed my hand away.

"It's fine." I frowned at the back of her head, but let my left hand fall to my thigh, pressing Roach into a lope.

**~ Eliana ~**

My mouth watered of its own accord as the rabbit Geralt had skinned, gutted and trussed up to roast over a fire cooked, the smell of roast floating on the smoke whenever a breeze pushed it my way.

He'd once again checked if there was any heat to my back indicating infection. Finding none, he'd decided to leave my bandages another day. Relief had rushed through my body. Last night had been hard enough to sit still, harder to awaken and realise I'd passed out unclothed.

I was certain after a full day of riding, and of the way his horse trusted him, loved him even, Geralt would not harm me. My instincts knew this. My mind, filled with dark memories, did not. Geralt looked nothing like those men. He looked nothing like any man I had met. He did not act like those men. So why did I keep making the mistake of thinking he was the same?

Blowing out a sigh, I shifted my weight from where I sat upon a soft bed of wild-grass, legs tucked beneath me. Tonight, we camped in a small hollow in a different gully to the one where Geralt had shot the rabbit. This one was deeper, and the air would be colder if it were not for the fire. I had Geralt's cloak wrapped about me and turned to watch him where he brushed his mare; murmuring to her in low tones I could not overhear. Was he cold without his cloak? He'd had a blanket when I had awoken this morning, so he felt the cold, but I wondered to what extent? Was he from a cold climate and therefore used to it? Is that why he had such a pale complexion? How did Petra know him? How did he know Petra? How… how could he have possibly known the King—my father's, mother? My grandmother? She'd been killed in a rebel attack nearly forty years ago… Perhaps he was a sorcerer? But if he was a sorcerer, why hadn't he used magic to do… well anything?

**~ Geralt ~**

She was watching me again. Was there no peace from her judgement? Finishing up with Roach, I checked the rabbit, tearing off a back limb to check it was cooked through. I hated the taste of raw meat, no matter what people thought. Unfortunately, I'd tasted my fair share of fresh blood from all assortment of creatures, including human.

Handing her the leg, I fetched the cleaned knife I used for cooking, and one of my two bowls. I carved up the meat, then settled with the bowl at Eliana's side, so we could both take from it. She didn't flinch like she had earlier when I'd checked her back. I'd made the call then to leave her be. The wounds were clean, the potion I'd given her was working, along with the Dragons Tongue leaf. Still, I'd have her drink the potion again tonight. Better to be safe. Too much weighed on her safe return to Verden. I was contracted to keep her alive.

Contract or not, although her watching me was annoying, the company on the road was a pleasant change. She didn't speak much, and I was unsure if she was quiet by nature, or if she just didn't want to speak to me. On the contrary, in explaining the goings on of Verden to her, I'd spoken in one day more than I had in an entire year. At least she didn't provoke me to open my mouth without knowing what would crawl out, like Yen used to.

Yennefer. My ribs contracted, crushing the air momentarily from my lungs. Damn witch. She'd been right. In our hideaway, we'd thought our minds, our hearts had found peace. No more fighting, no more judgement. We could be ourselves. Together. We were joined, along with Ciri, a family tied by bonds which would never break, because of destiny, because of a last, desperate wish.

I never considered time, the breaker of us all, even those who could live for centuries.

_"You are restless, and I am weary." Yen said, staring out across the crystal waters of the lake. "The peace you seek is not here, no matter how hard you wish it, because in the end, we are held together by your wish." _

_"It's more than that." I countered, angry she would bring any of it up._

_"A wish you made out of desperation, a wish which binds me to you, and you to I." She finished. It was nothing I didn't already know, but my restlessness, I'd tried to hide it. I had grown restless with idling by, as the world shifted, rising and falling. _

_"I too have made a wish, Geralt." Her voice, it was… no... It was final. Panic seized my heart, and I grabbed her arm, spinning her to face me. _

_"What have you done?" Those violet eyes gazed back at me, weary, older. Their spark faded. "Yen?"_

_"I love you, Geralt of Rivia, but I am tired. My soul is tired." _

_"No." I barked out, pulling her closer, pressing my lips to her forehead. "No." I said against her brow, softer. _

_There's someone out there, with no ties to you because you had to make a choice. It will be real." _

_"This is real." I pleaded, but in my heart, I knew each word she spoke was the truth. I'd known all along I would lose her, known all along she was never truly mine. But to let her go, to be without her? No. No, I could not endure without her. _

In the end, I endured because she asked me to. I was still enduring. Yen had bid me promise to live too. Was I living?

I'd come back after Yen had taken her final breath, because without her, I only knew monsters.

"Geralt?" Pulling myself from the torments of my mind, I turned to Eliana, noting she'd eaten half the rabbit meat, and left the rest for me.

"Hmm?"

"I uh, was wondering if you would like your cloak back?"

"You need it more than I." She nodded, staring at the flames before us. The question was an odd one, surely she knew a Witcher could withstand extreme weather beyond the capacities of a man? A small yawn escaped her, and I decided it was time to give her a second vial of the potion. As if sensing my thoughts, she turned her head, wary blue-green eyes finding mine.

"To be safe, I'll give you another dose of the healing potion, then you should rest." I got up, before she could protest, and pulled the correct vial from a pack resting against a nearby shrub. When I stood again, she was too.

"Uh, here." I uncorked and handed the vial over, and she downed it in three gulps, her decidedly fair elven features screwed up from the bitter taste. The empty vial was thrust back into my hand, as she used the water from a skin she also held, to wash down the taste.

"Thank you." She bit out, tone harsh, surprising, until I realised standing had pulled at her injuries. She let out a low hiss between her teeth as she moved to the other side of the fire.

"What are you doing?"

"Finding a place to rest." She muttered, testing the softness of the grass underfoot, the mass of my cloak causing her to blend into the darkness, despite my keen eyes.

"There is a bedroll remember, wait and I'll unroll it for you." I strode to where it lay, still rolled and tied.

"No, it's yours, I'll be fine here." Stubborn girl, what was she playing at now? Carrying the bedroll, I stalked to where she was still testing the grass beneath her bare feet. They were freezing, surely. She couldn't sleep on the grass. My own feet were bare, and despite it bothering me little, I knew each blade of grass held the chill of winter in this deep valley.

"It's too cold for you, here." I unravelled the roll before turning to her.

"Fine, I'll sleep on the other side." I thought she'd conceded, offering to share the bedroll, but no, she brushed past me, returning to the other side of the fire. A growl of frustration worked its way out of my chest.

"Eliana."

"Geralt." She mimicked back, and I almost laughed, but her antics were maddening. She needed sleep, I needed sleep, and she didn't need to go and freeze herself to death. I followed her back around the fire where she'd stilled. No, she swayed. "I was right, you are drugging me." Her words were slow, coming out wrong, but they still stung of accusation.

"Not intentionally. The healing potion is not meant for someone like you, it's too strong."

"Then whose it meant for?" Her knees buckled from beneath her, and her hands shot out, grasping, but I had her, holding her steady at the sides. Still, her fingers were twisted into the front of my shirt, over my heart.

"It is meant for me."

"Figures." She half scoffed, half mumbled, words failing her as the potion began to take over. "You are monstrous compared to me." Just like that, she'd reminded me of what I was. A monster, nothing more. A monster created to slay other monsters. Her weight deadened in my grip, and with a snort of derision at her last words, I pick her up, carrying her to the bedroll. I had no desire to wake close to her, and once I was certain she would not freeze, stalked back to the other side of the fire. I'd sleep with my blanket and the company of Roach, the cold be damned.

**~ Eliana ~**

_I wiggle in the long grass, watching the seed heads sway back and forth in the warm breeze. Back and forth, back and forth, they go. High, high above, big white clouds soar across the blue sky._

_Yesterday, Carr was here with me. He taught me how to spot the animals in the clouds. I squint at a funny-looking mass. It kind of looks like a horse… or is it a wolf? A big, white wolf. A big white wolf like the one from one of mamma's lullabies._

_Mamma, she will know which one it looks like most. I jump to my feet, and dash through the long grasses of the meadow past the grazing horses, past the fruit trees, vegetables and herb gardens, and tumble through the wooden fence rails._

_"Mamma!" I call out for my mamma, pushing open the back entrance into the kitchen. When I left for the meadow, mamma was singing, but now the cottage is very quiet. She does not answer me, and so I call her again, stomping in impatience. If she doesn't hurry, the clouds will move and the horse or the wolf will be gone! _

_"Mamma?" I don't know why she won't answer, she always answers when I call her. A funny feeling, like I've swallowed wriggly earth worms, makes me wrap my arms tightly about my tummy. The kitchen is filled with sunshine, but beyond the door into the rest of the cottage where our bedrooms are, and little washroom, and hearth room, it is dark and there is no singing. _

_I feel scared, the wriggling worms wriggling more in my tummy. Its stupid. Mamma and Petra both say there is nothing to be afraid of in the cottage, it is always safe, but I am scared, and I don't know why, and I don't know why mamma won't come out. _

_Making sure to be silent like the foxes and hares which live in the meadow, I creep into the hearth room. It's gloomy, but I can see. I can see mamma; she's lying on the ground in front of my favourite chair. Is this a game? Is she pretending to be asleep so I can sneak up on her? I keep creeping, being very, very quiet, creeping around the chairs, dropping to my hands and knees to crawl. I am a wolf, like the one in the clouds, sneaking up on her from behind a huge, huge tree, and she can be a sleeping deer, or, or a bear! A bear sleepy still from the winter! I am a clever little wolf; I'll wake her up! _

_I curl my fingers into paws and drop my shoulders, like I've seen the friendly wolves in the forest do, and stalk towards her. I am so close, and I think I will pounce on her, give her a good scare, but my paw hands are wet. I sit back, opening my palms. Its sticky, whatever the wet stuff is. I sniff at it, catching the bright red colour of it in the light. Blood. It smells like blood. _

_"Mamma?" I stare at her, I call out her name over and over again, but she does not wake up. "Mamma!" I can feel the wet blood oozing on my hands, my arms, my legs, as I crawl right up to her. Her eyes are open, green as leaves, but she won't move, she won't answer me. Mamma is staring up at the rafters like she can't see me, like she can't hear me. "Mamma!" I shake her, I tug at her hand. It's cold, so cold like she's been out in winter snow, but it is summer, and she hasn't been out in the snow! "Mamma! Mamma!" I curl into her side, pressing my cheek against her collarbones. I can't hear the thump, thump of her heart... "Mamma…"_

_"It's all right, shh, it's all right."_

_I clasp on to the familiar smell of the man's shirt. He is mamma's special friend, Carr, and my friend. He'll help, he'll fix mamma._

_"Help mamma, help mamma, she can't see me, and she's hurt." I plead him, but he's carrying me away, into the kitchen. It's dark outside now, the sun is gone, no more birds are singing, just like mamma isn't singing. "Help mamma." I tell him again. _

_"Shh, it's all right my little firefly, Petra is with her."_

_"Okay." I say, because Petra can make everyone better. Petra is a healer and works at the castle for the King. _

_"Are you alright?" Carr_ says_ and I nod. He is still holding on to me and he always gives the best cuddles, so I press my head against his black shirt, and hug him back, hiding my face when Petra appears, when Petra tries to explain to me why mamma isn't all better, why Petra could not fix her._

_Carr is crying, I can feel his tears all wet in my hair, and so is Petra, and so I cry too, because I want my mamma, but she isn't coming. She'll never see the wolf or the horse in the clouds. _

* * *

**_Toss a coin to your witcher, oh valley of... Uhem, I mean reviews are welcome if you have any questions or thoughts. _**

**_blasttyrant - Haha no more pennies here, just dollars, cents and plastic notes! Glad you are enjoying it! Gosh I better get my butt into gear and update There Were Ten!_**


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

_**~ Geralt ~**_

Ignore her, Geralt, it's only the potion working through her system. I stared up at the stars, fingers clenched into the grass I lay upon to anchor myself from leaping up and doing something stupid.

Eliana let out soft, fitful cries, calling out for her mother, begging for someone to help her, to wake her up. Every time I shut my eyes to shut her out, I envisioned the story Petra had told me; of a small girl found covered in her mother's blood, clinging to her cold body, crying out for help.

I recalled having my own childhood dredged up by potions and poisons in the long ago past, and, on more recent times since returning to the continent. Hadn't I felt the despair of re-living those nightmares, of my mother abandoning me?

"Wake up, mamma, please wake up." Her crying was in earnest now, and blades of grass broke in my hands. "Please, please..." Ignore her, just ignore her. "Please help, please." Fuck! I leapt up, stumbling a little from the sudden action, and stalked around the glowing embers to where she was just visible swathed in my cloak, curled in on herself.

"Please he... help, please?" I knelt beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Shh, it's all right, shh." She sought my voice, hands reaching much like a child. The potion was a wretched concoction. For all it did good to the body, it injured the soul. Starlight illuminated her tear-streaked cheeks, and those eyes, fuck, those eyes held an ocean of sadness. I should have stayed on my side of the campfire, ignored her. Fuck! My resolve vanished, unravelled by shaking hands knotting into the front of my shirt, searching for something real, something safe.

"It's all right." Taking heed of her injuries, I lowered myself onto the bedroll, and wrapped my arms about her shaking frame. Her heart, I could feel it; a frantic staccato against my chest. Tears dampened my shirt where she buried her head, quiet sobs reverberating along my collarbone. "It's only a dream, it's all right." There was little more I could do to comfort her, and so, like the evening before, I stroked her hair.

Elven hair was softer than human, and readily took on the light of the moon and the sun, only adding to their enchanting features. Despite only being half Elf, Eliana's felt as if I were entwining my fingers in threads of the finest silk. Well, what I imagined threads of silk felt like.

Little by little, her heart-beat steadied, low sobs replaced by steady breaths. But she didn't let go of me, fingers still curled about the front of my shirt.

I drew in my own calming breath, releasing it in a sigh, ruffling her hair. I'd be remaining here for the rest of the night it seemed. Stirring, she burrowed closer against my chest, breaths relaxing once again. Her heart, it beat twice as fast as my own, yet every second beat synchronised mine. Remaining here was not so bad.

_**~Eliana~**_

I would have hit him, but my hands were bunched into the front of his shirt. Why was he here? Why did I have a death grip on his shirt? Warm breaths ghosted over the crown of my head, but I dared not breathe for my mortification. He was here because I had been dreaming about... a shudder wracked through my entire being, and his breathing abruptly ceased.

Looking up, I met his eyes, perhaps a little less bright for his half-awake state. There were mere inches between my face and his; my chest flush against his own. His heart, I hadn't noticed it before, but now I did, a slow, steady beat beneath honed muscle and strong ribs. It was too slow, a yawning pause before its thump reverberated against my breastbone. It was unnatural to all I knew of the human anatomy.

"Good morning." His voice rumbled right through me. "I trust you slept well?" His mouth quirked at the corner and realising I still clung to his shirt between us, I let go of him, my cheeks and ears tingling with embarrassed heat.

What made it worse, I'd been clinging to him, but he'd had no arm around me keeping me there. My ears burned, and I scrambled up, ignoring the now familiar but unpleasant stretch and pull of my back. I needed to get away from him!

I walked a little way from the camp, my bare feet knocking drops of dew from each blade of meadow grass, drinking in the crisp earthen chill of the air. With each exhale, I pushed back those haunting dreams, and my embarrassment. Brushing my fingers over my cheek, I scowled, rubbing away the remnants of salted tears.

Geralt must think me childish, the way I had let my dreams affect me. We'd been so close… I shivered, thanking the stars he was not like those other men. Yet, what was he? I supposed he could be in such good health his heart did not need to beat as often. His physic certainly attested to that theory.

I peered over my shoulder. He was still lying where I'd left him, but he'd rolled onto his other side, facing me. There was a slight frown between his brows, but he otherwise didn't make a move to stop my wandering. I breathed in the sunlight, as it broke through the clouds, for the first time in a long time, letting my soul be wild.

**~Geralt~**

Sunlight played off the droplets on the long grass, the elegant female figure walking away from me, basking in its small warmth. Something had changed in her. Not the initial shock of awaking next to me, a predicament I had tried to rectify. She'd clung to my shirt with fists like talons, and I hadn't wanted to wake her before dawn. That's what I'd told myself. In truth, I'd felt… fuck, I didn't know. It was not the paternal pull Ciri had on me, nor was it exactly the way I had cared for Yen, or even how I had felt during my time with Triss… it was… indescribable.

Yen had never needed my protection, never needed me for more than conversation, companionship and sex. Yen was a mage, a powerful one at that. If anything, she was more capable of protecting me. The wish, my wish, bound us. Had bound us.

Ciri. I was bound to her too. My child of surprise. Bound by fate. Ciri was a daughter to me, a friend.

Triss. Well, my relationship with Triss was steeped in magic. When it faded, so did my feelings.

Eliana was not bound to me in any way, yet she was… fuck! Why was I analysing any of this? The girl despised me. I'd seen the horror in her wide eyes when I'd awoken, felt the shudder of revulsion through my bones. There were no feelings, only the foolish musings of someone who'd spent far too long alone on the roads with only his horse for company.

Still, the change in her, the one I saw now, I couldn't help but watch her every movement for more than heeding her safety. Despite her injuries, there was a wild grace about her movements, a beauty to the way she trailed her fingers over the tips of the grasses, venturing further to where a deer grazed. We could eat that deer. My fingers twitched toward my crossbow, but I didn't move, transfixed on the way the doe lifted her dainty head, allowing Eliana to walk right up to her.

I expected her to stroke the doe's head or neck, but she didn't, sinking down into the long grass beside the creature instead. Curiously, the doe sniffed at her hair and Eliana's lips moved, speaking words I could not hear. The doe went back to her grazing but did not leave Eliana's side.

It was still early, and our next destination was close. We could spare a little while longer here, I decided, watching how the girl leaned back on her hands, head tilted to the sky. I liked her like this; Peaceful. Watching her, I could forget there were monsters in this world.

_**~ Eliana ~**_

The cool morning breeze, warming under the sun's touch, whispered through the surrounding grass; mingled with the gentle tear and chew of the doe's grazing. There was another sound on the breeze, a whoosh, whoosh. I sat up from where I'd been leaning back, glancing towards the valley's steep walls. From the rocky plateau I made out a great bird swooping towards us at an alarming speed.

"Run!" I cried out to the doe, leaping to my feet as she bounded away. No sooner had she reached the tree line; a great force sent me flying sideways. I let out a surprised scream, pain shooting through my back as it connected hard with the ground. Overhead, silver flashed as Geralt's sword cut through the air, intercepting the flying beast. A piercing shriek echoed off the valley walls, going on and on inside my head. I gasped, my ears aching.

"Eliana get up, get into the trees!" Geralt's voice filtered through, urgent. The winged creature arced mid-air, out of reach of Geralt's blade, and for the first time I glimpsed its head.

It resembled a cockerel, but far more terrible. It shrieked again, opening its sharp beak, great wings sending the grass about me swaying. Scrambling to my feet, I made towards the trees and campsite as the creature swooped again. I looked back, heart slamming against my ribs as Geralt only just danced out of its way, swinging his blade at its long talons. It screamed, and I realised Geralt had cut it this time, but again, it flew out of his reach, those huge, yellow-rimmed, beady eyes watching his every move.

I'd reached the trees, and watched on, horrified as it swooped Geralt a second time, manoeuvring at the last moment to knock him with one of its heavy wings. He rolled in the grass, springing to his feet in time to swipe his silver sword up at the bird monster's underbelly. His teeth were grit, rage in his eyes as he dragged the point of his blade through its feathers. Blood sprayed down over him, the creature's shriek morphing into a high-pitched roar. It rose above Geralt's head, wings flapping hard, before pining them back in another dive. Again, he aimed at its underbelly, but this time, one of those sharp talons raked across his unprotected shoulder, drawing a deep line of blood.

The creature made to take off again, but Geralt had his free hand wrapped around its other leg. It shrieked, those sharp, black talons seeming to scratch at his arm, as it swept him off the ground. A gasp escaped me. I didn't know what to do! The bird beast would kill him if the fall did not. They now fought in the pale sky, level with the topmost branches of the trees. Geralt's blade glinted, only to disappear within the black feathers, and the creature let out a long, wailing scream, cancelling out all other sound. Then they were falling in a spiral of dark feathers.

With a great whumph, the beast hit the earth, Geralt somewhere beneath it. I was running towards them before Id drawn another breath, heart in my throat.

"Geralt!" My knees slammed into the churned-up grass and soil, searching under the dead beast for his body. Beneath a crumpled wing, I found his arm, blood smearing his pale skin where vicious talons still clung to it. "Geralt?" I pushed at the wing, sobbing from the effort to shift its impossible weight. Was he dead, goddess please no, don't let him be dead! There was a rumble of a groan, and the wing gave way, revealing his pale, blood splattered face.

* * *

_**Toss a review to your witcher, oh valley of readers...**_

_**Thoughts and questions welcome!**_

_**Hey to all you new followers!**_

_**lokidoki9 - First, love the username! Thank you, I do not want to stuff up the correct history between Yen and Geralt, so I'm so glad you like it! I ship Yen and Geralt so hard, haha, but I just can't bring myself to write cannon character pairings. I think if I tried, it would be like Jaskier said; That ship has sailed, wrecked and sunk to the bottom of the ocean. I am having a lot of fun writing Eliana into the witcher world, and their interactions, so yay you are enjoying it too!**_

_**blasttyrant - Ah hahaha! Yeah she's a right lil' snarky chica when she wants to be, but its more out of fear and defense.**_


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

_**~Geralt~**_

"Geralt?" Fingers, warm yet trembling, were at my throat, my forehead, my arm. Groaning, I forced my eyes open, blinking up at the face peering down at me, drawn with fear.

"Eliana." I said, recognising those sea-blue eyes, pert nose and full lips, her golden hair trailing over my neck. "Hold still I'll free your arm." She panted, breaths coming short from what? Fear? My left arm stung and throbbed, like I'd been swiped at repeatedly by a dagger. I guess it had been. The Shrieker's talons were as sharp as dagger blades. Blood tainted the air, along with the foul scent of the dead creature, akin to a chickens coop, but worse, more like a chickens coop where the chickens feasted on meat and gore, not grains and vegetable scraps.

I winced as Eliana pried each of the claws from my arm, muttering under her breath over the blood, and something about infection. Fuck, I could taste the dead creature's blood on my lips. Abruptly, I sat up, pushing back bile.

"I need a wash, stay under the trees, close to Roach." Ignoring more protests about infection, and bleeding everywhere, I grabbed my sword and hurried to the wide stream which we'd camped near, desperate to get the taste of blood from my mouth. Then we needed to get out of this valley. Who knew what attention the Shrieker's screams might have attracted? My right shoulder stung where the beast had clawed me, the sleeve of my shirt soiled in my blood. Eliana had my spare shirt, fuck, I needed to get the girl clothes. Dragging my shirt off, I dumped it on the grass, and knelt on the bank of the stream, splashing water over my face and arms.

Two cuts on my forearm bled, and my shoulder had not let up either. Shaking the water out of my hair, I rose, pulling the shirt back on, the material pulling tight in places from the water still on my skin.

"We need to go." I said to Eliana, striding back to our small camp. She stood next to Roach, as I had instructed earlier, but bundled in her arms was my healer's satchel.

"Are you hurt?" I hadn't checked her, I didn't think the beast's talons had caught her, but had I been wrong? Its wing had knocked her over. Or had that been me? My rush to get between her and the Shrieker was a blur now.

"No, but you are."

"It's fine, we need to go." I kicked soil over the remaining embers of the fire, turning to pack up the bedroll, before snatching up my jerkin. A hand caught my right, uncut wrist. I stilled, meeting Eliana's determined gaze.

"Your arm needs bandaging, and your shoulder might need sutures." Sutures? I barked out a laugh, and her eyes narrowed.

"I don't need sutures."

"I beg to differ." I made to shrug on my jerkin, but she still held my arm, surprisingly strong.

"There isn't time for this."

"And when will there be time to get the rotting stench of blood out of your jerkin?" She let go of my arm, crossing hers over her chest. A sigh whistled past my lips.

"Fine, but no sutures."

"Fine." She hurried to Roach on silent feet, fetching the healing supplies as I conceded defeat and sat on the ground, sprawling my legs out before me, staring at the boots I'd pulled on moments before the Shrieker had made its appearance.

Eliana had already mixed up a tincture while I'd been at the stream. I stared at the bowl of olive-coloured liquid, picking up on the various notes of the herbs she'd used from my supply. Soaking one of the clean rags I kept for just this purpose, she began dabbing at my shoulder, the pressure gentle considering the speed she worked.

The tincture stung, but her minustrations made it hard to let the pain bother me. Once she'd applied a thin layer of balm to my shoulder and wrapped it, she focused her attention on my left forearm,. Taking my hand, Eliana ran the cleaned and re-soaked rag over the jagged cuts. The bleeding had stopped, save for a vein on my hand near my wrist. She frowned, dabbing the fresh blood away.

"This one should be sutured."

"No."

"It's a vein. She bit out, annoyed I was refusing her."

"It will be fine." A huff escaped her.

"Typical stubborn knight."

"Pardon?" _Knight?_

"You all think you know better than a healer, but stubbornness can kill a man." Man? Was she generalizing or did she think…?

"I'm not a knight." I countered as she took a clean, dry rag and applied pressure to the bleeding cut.

"Hunter then. You're all the same, although given your supply of herbs and how you treated me, I expected you'd know you need sutures." I looked at her, really looked at her; taking in her frustrated expression, those eyes, sparking like tumultuous waves on the ocean.

"Eliana, I don't need sutures, a pressure bandage will be enough." She stared at me a moment longer, as if she were trying to will me to change my mind.

"Fine, hold this." She indicated to the rag, and I took over applying pressure while she applied the healing balm to the other cuts, her fingers soothing against the sting. I stared at her left hand holding mine. Smooth, unblemished golden skin against my pale skin, crisscrossed with scars. Her fingers were straight, elegant. Could they wield power beyond her soothing touch? Did she know her hands soothed as much as the balm?

"What was that creature?" Eliana asked, wrapping a bandage about my arm and hand.

"A Shrieker. They usually prey on livestock and dwell near towns."

"Is there a town nearby?"

"Mhmm. We'll pass through it today. Our supplies are out, I'll buy food in Kaer Morheh. It is a risk, but a necessity. Hopefully, I can acquire garments for you there, although I doubt there will be much." I didn't mention the other risk of entering a town, being driven out by hatred.

"Thank you." She finished her work, and I pulled on my jerkin, both glad and disappointed her ministrations had ended. For someone with a fiery temper, she evoked a peacefulness. I couldn't deny I'd slept soundly once her potion infused dreams had abated. I turned to face her, but she'd pivoted on her feet, back facing me. Fresh blood stained the shirt.

"Eliana, your back—"

"It's fine." She made to buckle the healing satchel, and I stilled her hand with mine.

"Your bleeding, you must have torn your sutures."

"I know." She whispered without looking at me.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"It wasn't important, your injuries are worse." A derisive laugh erupted from me.

"I'm in a far better state of body to heal than you are."

"Geralt, please can we leave them for now?" There was a panicked wildness to her eyes, her face paling behind golden strands of hair. I pulled my hand away from hers.

"Are you afraid of me?" I cut to the chase, but she shook her head, jaw clenched. "Then what is it? You think I'm a monster?"

"No!" Her eyes widened in horror. "Why would you presume such a thing?"

"I..." I had no words, as realisation hit.

"Well?" She pressed.

"You called me a monster our first night together." A frown creased her brow, and she stared at me. Embarrassment heated the small points of her ears and coloured her cheeks.

"I was scared, I am sorry. I know now you are nothing like those men, but I just..." She shook her head helplessly, seeming at war with an inner demon. "I… it's hard to… forget." She shook her head again, biting down furiously on her bottom lip. "I don't mean to offend you." She finally said, staring at her hands.

My own hands clenched and unclenched at my sides, a palpitating rage simmering beneath my skin. If I'd known, if I'd had the time, I would have ensured those slave traders suffered more for the pain they'd caused Eliana. Heat blazed hot under my ribs.

"Geralt?" Her voice was an uncertain whisper, and I came back to the present, cocking my head to meet her almost shy gaze.

"It is all right." I wanted to tell her I'd been called worse, but I had never, would never act like the scum who had caught her—tried to enslave her. Blowing out a sigh, I stood and extended my good hand. "Tonight, you will let me see to your back and shoulders." Eliana swallowed but nodded, placing her hand in mine like a peace offering.

"Thank you." She said once I'd pulled her up to stand before me. I merely grunted, dropping her hand to tug my jerkin on. That damn overgrown rooster had really done a number on my wrist, and the bandage would be a nuisance until it healed, but I'd wear it to appease Eliana and her notions I was a mere white knight sent to fetch her, not the monster I truly was.

_**~Eliana~**_

It was not until the ring of shod hooves on cobblestones echoed in my ears I realised I had fallen asleep. Starting, I blinked into the sunlight, staring at the town now surrounding me. Men and women going about their daily business observed us. Their expressions were wary. I didn't know what to make of their reaction and squirmed with discomfort, my neck prickling with fear.

"It's all right." Geralt murmured near my ear. "Strangers passing by are always a curiosity to village and townsfolk." I swallowed, his steady words reassuring. Between my shoulders I could feel his heart's slow, slow beat. It helped settle me enough to take proper notice of our surroundings. The village was built from the great pines which surrounded the area, nestled in a valley. There was a tranquillity about it, yet I was sure, by the worn faces of the village-folk, their life was far from tranquil. Geralt nudged Roach down a wide street, revealing various vendors' stalls. We passed a rack of polished hunting bows of various designs at a smithy before Geralt halted Roach before a water trough. A mouse-grey donkey let out a low bray, jerking his head up and down. Geralt swung down, murmuring at Roach not to bite. I glanced back towards the bows.

"Geralt?"

"Hmm?" He busied himself rummaging in the left saddle pack, and I heard the soft clink of coin.

"Could I, perhaps, acquire a bow while we are here?"

"What would you do with a bow, Princess?" His cynical tone set my teeth clenching.

"Use it." He shook his head.

"Stay on Roach, I'll see what I can find." Pocketing a soft leather pouch and strode to a nearby stall where I could see breads set out on a wooden bench.

I stayed in the saddle, trying not to fidget, the hairs at the back of my neck prickling. Multiple pairs of eyes watched me, just as I could see townsfolk watching Geralt with a scorn I did not understand. Others were curious, a middle-aged woman whispering excitedly to her younger companion.

"Yeh could do better company than that monster, girlie." A man muttered, hurrying past, away from where Geralt stood. I stared after him, my confusion growing. Monster? Was the man perhaps mistaken? I turned back to Geralt, and he must have felt my gaze, for he turned, those golden eyes finding mine.

It's okay. He seemed to say with but a look. Swallowing, I nodded, and he turned away, a loaf of bread in hand, to purchase something from the next stall.

"Look at the girl, she might be one of them too. Eyes are too bright, like his." I stiffened; the gruff voice filled with a hatred I couldn't miss. I glanced about Roach's saddle, the mare shifting with unease. Geralt wore all his weapons. Shoving a hand into the left saddlebag, I tried finding more coins, but there was nothing, nor in the right when I checked. I wanted a weapon. Grabbing up the reins, I nudged Roach around and into a trot towards the Smithy.

"Stay here." I told the mare, sliding from the saddle, pulling Geralt's cloak tight about me. Heart pounding with both fear and adrenalin, I walked up to the row of bows, and reached out to run my fingers over the smooth rose wood of a recurve similar to mine back in Verden. Gripping the bow, I lifted it from the rack.

"What do you think you are doing?" I startled, right hand jerking back, before I remembered I had no quiver and the bow I held was unstrung. I turned my head to see a man, perhaps ten years my senior, but he appeared much older and battered by the worry creases marring his forehead, and a jagged scar running down the right side of his jaw.

"I, I…"

"Think you can steal it?"

"No, no! I just wanted to look at it." I stammered. Roach, nearby, let out a low huff.

"If you're not buying, move on."

"How much is it?"

"Twenty crowns." I swallowed.

"Including a full quiver and strings?"

"Thirty-five." He crossed his arms, staring at me. "What's a slip of a girl like you want with a bow, anyway?"

"It doesn't matter." I let out a defeated sigh, placing the bow back on the rack. "I don't have the coin for it." I made to leave when a child's terrified voice called from the door of the nearby pine house.

"Papa, mamma won't wake up!" The man's face palled, and he spun on his heel, bolting towards the house adjoining the Smithy. The child, a boy, stared at me. He was surely no older than eight, brown eyes wide with fear, tears brimming at his dark lashes. Without thinking twice, I rushed after the man.

The house was dark and stifling warm, but I easily followed the man into a bedroom where a lady lay in a bed, blankets up to her throat, her auburn hair damp. Sweat and decay hit my senses, and I let out a gasp. Infection. "What happened to her?" I asked the man as he shook the woman awake. To my relief, she stirred, feverish eyes fluttering.

"How dare you follow me—"

"I'm a healer." I cut over him. "I may be able to help her." He turned to me, the look of a desperate man.

"Are you truly?" I nodded. "I can't pay you."

"I don't care, tell me what happened?" He stared at me, shock and hope swirling in brown eyes just like his son's, who lingered in the doorway crying.

"A cut to her leg, she fell whilst tending the chickens over a week ago. It's infected, I've tried treating it myself, but there's no healer in town, and to send for one, we don't have the money." The man drew in a shaking breath. "Please, I beg of you, if you can help my Annetta, you can have anything you wish from the Smithy, any bow." I barely nodded, focusing on pulling the blankets away to reveal the woman's leg. The inner blanket and her bedclothes were drenched through with sweat, and I could not stop the instinctual wrinkling of my nose as the full stench of infection flooded my senses. The bandage wrapped about the woman's red and swollen calf was stained yellow and rust brown, where puss and blood seeped from the wound. With tentative fingers, I un-ravelled the bandage, gritting my teeth where the cloth caught on dried puss.

"Brom?" The woman's shrill, confused voice filled the small room.

"Tis all right, a healer is here." The man, Brom, smoothed a cloth over her feverish brow. As I chewed my bottom lip, examining the full extent of infection. Angry, vermillion lines extended beyond the festering wound, trailing up beneath her nightdress. Poisoning of the blood. I had seen it in soldiers, had aided Petra in trying to heal their wounds, but once the infection made its way into the blood, most did not survive beyond a few agonizing days lost to fever dreams.

"Lieth, where is Lieth?" Annetta called out. "Lieth, it is time to learn your numbers." The boy still stood in the doorway, small hands clutching the wooden frame.

"Do you have a herb garden?" I asked him, and his tear-filled eyes turned to me. He nodded.

"If you have it, can you fetch me some lemon-leaf, a garlic bulb, oregano, aloe, calendula and a lemon or orange if you have one? Even a lime?" He nodded, turning to hurry away.

"You can help her?" Bram breathed once his son was out of earshot.

"I, I don't know. I can try." I looked up at the man, forcing myself to meet his desperate eyes. "I am sorry, the infection has reached her bloodstream, I can only try…" He nodded; jaw tight. "I need clean, warm water, clean cloths, and a clean knife. I need to open the wound, and quickly."

"All right, I can do that." Bram sprang from the room, leaving me with the woman. An overwhelming dread spread to my heart as she muttered incoherent words, falling in and out of consciousness. Every man I had ever seen under Petra's care, who had reached the mind realms of a fever, never survived the night. The woman would die tonight, and I couldn't help her. This woman who was a wife, a mother, barely older than I. Tears burned behind my eyes while I absently took up the cloth to her brow, wiping beads of sweat away.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered, blinking back my tears.

"No, no, help me, please help me." Annetta whimpered, her breathing laboured behind cracked lips. I wanted to help her, I wanted to scream because I couldn't! I wanted to draw the infection from her blood, from her body! Drag the poison from her blood, leaving it clean. I wanted to, no, needed to save her! She couldn't die, she couldn't!

Fire burned through my chest, shooting through my right arm, followed by a heavy weight, tingling as if my fingers were going numb. Someone behind me shouted, and Annetta cried out. Something wrapped tight around my arm, jerking me away from the women, and then the same numb tingling cloaked my mind, sending me spiralling down, the last thing I felt, a reverberating growl through my spine.

_**Toss a coin to your Witcher, reviews welcome!**_

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_I'm still alive! Although, wow have the actually staying alive stakes risen big time! This is day eighteen of self imposed isolation, and only now have I both had time, and felt up to writing. Hi to all new readers and followers, and hi to my current peeps! I hope you all, wherever you are in the world are doing okay and that you are all safe. xx If you are like me, you are probably falling back on reading fics for that familiar comfort of characters you know, so if you are an anxious mess like me, I really hope my stories are helping others out there, like others' stories are helping me! xx Love to you all. _


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

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_**~Eliana~**_

The world swayed back and forth, back and forth in time to the beat of hoofs. I was warm, safe, yet chill air whipped at my face, and each time I stirred, my head throbbed, and unintelligible words, or were they growls, of discontent reverberated through my aching body.

I don't know when, or how, but when finally I could open my eyes, and hold consciousness, the tall pines I'd glimpsed in flashes of painful light now stretched into the darkness of night.

There was no low burning camp fire, but I was warm, cocooned in blanket, a solid heat emanating from behind me.

"Geralt?" My tongue was heavy, and I struggled on each syllable, as I tried to push myself up . The blanket shifted, and the frigid air bit at my arms and throat.

"You're awake." Geralt shifted, sitting up beside me, a silvery shadow. "Stay there and warm, I'll fetch you something to eat."

"I'm not hungr-" My stomach rumbled unexpectedly, a sharp pang causing my muscles to clench. Geralt returned from where Roach cropped grass nearby, the outline of her saddle upon her back. Why was she still wearing it?

"Here." A hunk of bread and square of cheese were pressed into my hands. I tore into the bread, and savoured the bite of the hard cheese, as my mind began to process my time in the village.

"What happened, where are we?" I asked, swallowing the last of the cheese.

"Not nearly far enough away from the village." Geralt all but grunted in displeasure.

"What, what happened? There was a woman, I couldn't save her-"

"You saved her, healed her at the risk of your own life, foolish girl." Geralt bit out, and it was now I realised the coldness was not from the night air, but an anger emanating off him, despite the warmth of his body when I'd awoken.

I dropped my remaining bread, stunned momentarily silent. "Don't snark at me, I don't even know what I did wrong." I found my words, confusion bringing out my own anger.

"You took off!" He thundered, golden eyes burning into mine. "Anything could have happened to you, I didn't know where you'd gone, if you'd been taken, hurt, killed!"

"I-"

"And then when I find you, you're as good as dead! What in the Goddess's name possessed you to leave?" He was so angry with me, teeth partly bared as he enunciated each word, and for a moment, I remembered the day he'd rescued me, the pure rage he'd unleashed upon those soldiers.

Struggling from the swath of blanket, I staggered to my feet.

"What are you doing, its freezing." The air bit at my bare skin, and my back stung from the stretch of healing flesh, but I ignored it, testing my strength and balance as I took a step away from him, followed by another. "Eliana." There was a low warning in his tone as he began to rise. My fear spiked, and with a jolt to my pounding heart, I whirled, dashing down a slope.

"Fuck!" The growled out curse followed me through the trees, and I pushed myself faster, faster, ducking and weaving through underbrush, my breaths turning to gasps as the cold stole the air from my lungs. A flash of pain shot through my temples, and the darkened forest tilted violently.

I never hit the frostbitten ground.

"Foolish, foolish, girl." Geralt rasped out, between his own breaths, holding me up by my arms, preventing me from falling.

"Let me go." I gasped, my mind whirling in dizzying circles.

"You'll fall over if I do."

"I don't care."

"I swear you have a death wish." He muttered. My fear must have shown plainly, for he frowned, before shaking his head. "Why are you running?" He asked, gentler.

"I…" It seemed silly now, why I'd run. I let out a long breath, the air a white, curling wisp before me. My head throbbed on my next breath in, spinning. "You were angry." I exhaled. Geralt let out an unintelligible rumble, his brow furrowing in consternation under the little moonlight filtering through the dense pines I'd run through.

"Eliana." He sighed, as if he were not quite sure what to do with me. "I was angry, but I won't hurt you, I promise you that. You never need to run from me." I caught the distinct bob of his throat as he swallowed, heard the sincerity of his words. "I'm here to keep you safe from harm and return you to your people." And just like that, Geralt reminded me of the entire reason he was here, of who I was meant to become once he'd deposited me safely back with the elves. Suddenly, I felt the cold bite of the night, the weariness I'd awoken to.

"Let's go back to camp." Geralt suggested, and I nodded once. "May I carry you; it is a long way back up."

"I can walk, it isn't far." Geralt let out a low snort of humour.

"I chased you nearly a mile down a hill, it is far, and steep. While it has been many years since I've had to chase down such a swift opponent, I only caught you because your energy is still too low. You need rest." There was no point in arguing, he was right.

"Fine, but only because my head is aching." I conceded, and he made a sound of approval, letting go of my arms. In one fluent movement, he caught me up in such a way the healing wounds upon my back did not protest too much. Closing my eyes, I let my cheek rest against the warmth of his chest, too exhausted and dizzy to think too much over the proximity I kept finding myself in with him, as his long strides carried us back up the steep hill.

_**~Geralt~**_

Eliana barely stirred as I settled her on my sleep roll, pulling the extra blankets I'd been given by the healed Blacksmith's wife, snugly over her. Her little stunt saving the woman, had cost us precious time.

The scents of the village had made Eliana hard to track, and if it were not for Roach, I would not have caught her scent, where it was near overwhelmed by the dying woman's. I'd reached the girl just in time, to yank her away from the woman before she poured her entire life essence into healing her.

With Eliana pale and unconscious, we were both inevitably trapped within the home of the Blacksmith, until I could get us both out of town without raising the suspicions only a Witcher carrying around a half-dead girl could raise.

Thankfully, the Blacksmith and his family were overjoyed by Eliana's healing power, the Blacksmith's wife now restored to full health, and all eager to repay Eliana in any way they could, ensuring I was fed and cleaned up. The woman aided in treating Eliana's lash wounds, and I had taken my leave soon after, letting the kind woman, whose name I'd learnt was Annetta, wash and clothe the girl in a dress she assured no longer fit her.

We'd left bestowed with a second dress, the blankets Eliana was now wrapped in, and, oddly, a bow and quiver of arrows the Blacksmith insisted I take for Eliana. I hadn't the slightest idea what the girl intended to do with them.

Lying on my side, facing the girl, I wondered at how such a lovely looking creature could cause me more hassle than most of the monsters I'd dealt with, excepting Yennifer? I supposed I was usually hired to kill lives, not preserve them.

I let me eyes drift shut, lulled by her peaceful breaths, and those of Roach nearby.

Stinging pinpricks upon the right side of my face me awake, and I blinked the fine dusting of snow from my lashes. Just what we needed. Groaning for lack of sleep, I sat up, shaking my hair. Beside me, Eliana was curled up in a ball beneath her blankets, shaking. I pressed a hand to her shoulder.

"Eliana, we need to go." The girl mumbled, incoherently, and I decided to leave her until I was ready to ride, shifting her off the sleep roll so I could pack up.

Roach let out a huff of discontent, when I approached her. "Sorry Roach, I can't control the weather. Dusting off her saddle, I checked and tightened her girth, and then stowed my sleeping roll. My blanket, I draped over her hind end, securing at the saddle. It was all the warmth I could offer her as we moved.

Lastly, I scooped Eliana up, blankets and all, sitting her before me in the saddle, where she curled into me, shivering.

"Why are we moving? She whispered; voice still thick with exhaustion.

"It's snowing, I want to leave now, while it is light, so our tracks will be covered."

"Oh. Okay." Eliana sighed, and I pulled her closer against me, letting Roach pick her way down the hill, hoping the snow would vanish any trace of us being here come morning.

_**~Eliana~**_

We'd been riding for hours. I'd awoken to the motion of Roach ambling through a thick layer of snow, my cheeks numb with cold. Curiously, Geralt, seated silent behind me, had both his arms wrapped about my middle. Trapped! I reacted, twisting my body forward, trying to break free. His arms vanished and a long-suffering sigh immediately brought me to my senses.

"Sorry." I muttered. Taking stock of our surroundings. Endless snow laden pines protruded from an endless stretch of snow covering all else. Geralt remained silent, and events of the past day danced through my mind. "And, I'm sorry about last night too, for running."

"You're an elf, well half elf." He stated, as if it solved everything. I craned my head around, giving up some of the warmth from the blankets I was rugged up in, to peer at his face. "Fight or flight. Those instincts are stronger in elves."

"Oh." I continued peering at him. He looked drawn, paler than usual against the dark cloak he was now wearing instead of me. No, not pale, but grey. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." He rumbled.

"I don't believe you."

"You don't have to." He curtly replied. With a huff of annoyance, I faced forward once more "I'm tired." He eventually admitted. "And I'm worried we drew too much attention in the village, despite taking extra precautions. How are you feeling?" He asked so suddenly, I wondered if he were avoiding something.

"I'm alright. My head no longer aches."

"Good." We lapsed back into silence for some time, the world dreary and cold. Geralt did not put his arms about my waist again, but I could feel the forward slump of his body, noticed the small jerks and twitches as he tried to stay awake. The poor man was clearly exhausted. I knew it was still quite dark when he'd stirred me, bundling me, blankets and all, onto Roach, muttering something about moving on so the snow would cover our tracks.

Tentatively I touched his right hand, where it rested on his leg. Despite the cold, his skin was warm.

"Hmm?"

"Where are we headed, is there a landmark I can sight to guide Roach?"

"There's a lake far off, you can catch glimpses of it at the peak of each hill. Why?"

"I'll make sure we reach it. Close your eyes, rest."

"No, if there is danger-"

"I'll hear it and wake you. Elf hearing, remember." I freed my head from the hood-like fold of the blanket to better hear. He grumbled, but did not contradict me, falling silent.

"Fine." His tired sigh ruffled through my hair as Roach crested the hill she had been climbing, and a deep shimmer of blue caught my eye far ahead. Finding his hands, I guided his arms back around my waist, not trapping myself, but using myself as an anchor, so he would not fall. He didn't resist, and as strange as it all was, I could not help the smile which twitched at the corner of my mouth, as he finally gave in to his exhaustion, his head resting on my right shoulder.

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**Toss a review to your Witcher...**

_Hi peeps! Hope we are all doing super well despite the current state of things! Still busy af IRL, soo the fic updates are still slow all round. It does feel good to update one of them though! Anyone seen the Making of the Witcher which recently dropped on Netflix? I may have drooled a little over the world building aspects. :D _

_x A_


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